LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Shelf .--..- 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



POEMS 



RHYTHMICAL EXPIIESSIONS. 



\P 



Dr. D. AMBROSE DAVIS. 



Harmonious lyre strings interlace 

All God's created things ; 
And never an orb that rolls in space 

But like an angel sings. 




BOSTON: 
COLBY & RICH, PUBLISHERS. 

1883. 



f^*" 

^^%^ 



Copyrighted by Dr. D. Ambrose Davis, 1883. 



Entered upon the scroll of Life's Passing Events, at Chicago, 111., 
by Dr. Ambrose DA\as,in the year of the Good Man of Nazareth 1883. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Dedicatory, 5 

Introductory, 7. 

Prefatory, H 

Did all Thiugs come by Chance ? 13 

Humility Inherited, 15 

What shall my Mission be ? 17 

Fraternity, 19 

The Prayer of Jesus, 23 

Nature's Theology, 25 

The Answering Voice, 27 

Supernal Guests, 29 

The Tiny Raps, 30 

Life's School-Rooms, 33 

Rural Life, 35 

The Mariner's Faith, 37 

Acorns and Oaks, 39 

The Little Angel Minuewa, 41 

The Soul of Beneficence, "^2 

Soul-Mating, 44 

The Ascended Wm. Lloyd Garrison, 45 

The Anthem of Nature, 46 

We go not out from Nature, 47 

Inscrutable Providence, 49 



4 CONTENTS. 

A Kindly Whisper, 50 

Tlie Voice I heard, 51 

Never, Never Lost, 52 

Tyranny, 53 

How Blest I was in Giving, 54 

The Little Guest at Supper, 56 

The Lost of Earth Forever in God's Keeping, .... 58 

Leaves, 61 

Valedictory, 66 

Robert Burns' Nuptials with Highland Mary in Spirit 

Life, 67 

The Dying Poet, 69 



DEDICATORY. 

The few rhythmical compositions contained in 
this little offering are dedicated by the author to 
his special friend and benefactor, S. E. W. Mar- 
tin, Esq., of Chicago, 111., the well and widely 
known humanitarian, and to every other fellow- 
mortal who shall find a single ray of pleasure in 
the perusal of them. 



INTRODUCTORY. 

This little book of poems is the product of the 
thought and inspiration of our friend and fellow 
citizen, Dr. D. Ambrose Davis ; and I shall take 
pleasure in doing what little is in my power to 
do to introduce him and his work to the reading 
public. 

I have been one of his many personal friends 
and acquaintances here for many years, and I feel 
assured that I can speak for them as well as for 
myself. They have known him in business, as 
well as in all his social relationships of life, as a 
very earnest, and yet a very quiet and unobtru- 
sive man, — while yet personally full of generous 
impulses and noble deeds, — a moral hero indeed 
in standing for the truth, new and old, and in 
promulgating it to the world, and as having, too, 
withal a peculiar intuitive acumen in discerning 
what are old errors, and what are new truths, — 
what should be cast away, and what should be 
received and firmly, but kindly, maintained against 
all opposition. He has exhibited always a marked 
peculiarity in his expressions of kindliness towards 
all who opposed his own thought, however harshly, 
or who could not leceive his standard of excel- 
lence ; for he would say that they were what they 



» INTKODUCTOKY. 

must be from their organizations and surround- 
ings. Another of his peculiarities has been — for 
he is a religious philosopher as well — that how- 
ever cruel fate, or seeming misfortune, has been, 
he has submissively and hopefully seen the hand 
of Providence over-ruling all for good, — at least 
that there was surely a good in everything. While 
he so pronounced in reference to our terrible 
Chicago Fire, — in which so many thousands lost 
their all, and so many, himself among them, lost 
nearly all their earthly goods (and it seemed curi- 
ous that he could do so), yet the event in so 
short a time seems to more than justify his pre- 
sentiments. 

But one of his most marked characteristics has 
been his gift of poesy. 

This, indeed, would not be altogether unlocked 
for by the truest judges of human qualities, upon 
view. Of a very slender physical frame, a high 
mental nervous temperament, quite ethereal long 
ago, and becoming more so every day, — stepping 
upward into the spiritual, — it would require no 
fancy to discern that the poiver divine should be 
resident there, and fully manifest. And so it is ; 
for he has been indeed a genius along this line. 
Many years ago he began to publish from time to 
time a short poem, and has continued to do so 
until the present. And we have often read them 
with pleasure, as we found them full of good, ripe 
thought, of high moral and religious tone, and 



INTRODUCTORY. 9 

always, too, pleasingly rhythmical, mellifluous, 
sententious, and telling. And now, as the author 
is in the "sere and yellow leaf" of autumn, and 
the time of fruitage and harvest will soon be past, 
I wonder not that some of his many friends and 
acquaintances have besought him to garner up at 
least some of the scattered leaves, or pearls 
rather, and give them a proper setting, as a 
memento of him, and for the benefit of the world. 
He has now consented, and the result is this lit- 
tle volume. And I take great pleasure in com- 
mending it to all, and in giving it such words of 
praise as the modest author would not essay for 
himself. I hesitate not to say that I think all 
will be amply rewarded and instructed by its 
perusal ; and that they will intuitively apply to 
him one of his own aphorismic expressions : '' The 
retiring, mild-mannered man of genius ever holds 
a valid claim to the admiration of his fellow men." 

Edmund S. Holbrook. 

CmCAGO, ILL., Nov., 1882. 



While the recipient of this kindly expression 
tremJbles lest he shall fall from the elevation it 
gives him, he places an exalted estimate upon it, 
coming gratuitously and unsolicited as it does 
from the pen of our well-known scholar and emi- 
nent jurist, Judge Edmund S. Holbrook, of Chi- 



10 INTRODUCTORY. 

cago, who is not only an honored judge of legal 
jurisprudence, but also a judge of poetry, being 
himself a frequent poetical as well as prose con- 
tributor to the current literature of the day. 

The Author. 



PREFATORY. 

To the lenient and friendly Reader^ — 

The author of the little inscriptions to be found 
upon the following pages, having on his part no 
excuse for pretentiously appearing before the pub- 
lic in the role of a book-writer, indulges the hope 
that the kindly reader will justify the following 
laconic and extenuating explanation. 

That oft-repeated requests and solicitations 
from friends, who have seemed earnestly desirous 
of retaining some little memento of their fellow 
mortal, when he shall have passed from the activi- 
ties of this lower life to journey in supernal path- 
ways, have been the impelling causes, and verily 
the real incentive, to the present appearing of this 
little tolven, which is but a little token most verit- 
ably, comprising only a few of the writer's pub- 
lished compositions, but enough, he thinks, until 
he can substantiate a better claim to depth of 
thought, and the hallowed God-gifts that ever 
sparkle in the inherited diadem of a poet. 

The Authoe. 



RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 



DID ALL THINGS COME BY CHANCE? 

If once there stood a chaos flood, 

And time coursed not diurnally, 
And beam of light from boundless night 

Was ordered not supernally ; 
And if there was no first great cause 

Or pulse that beat paternally, 
Did chance ordain that such domain 

Should cease its dread monotony? 

And then devise the vaulted skies. 

And form the heavenly canopy, 
With diadems of glittering gems 

To sparkle in its panoply ? 
Drape the clouds with vapory shrouds 

To wave in matchless majesty. 
And string the lyre of nature's choir 

To chant its hallowed minstrelsy? 



14 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

In that same hour then wield the power 

To reach throughout immensity ; 
And hold in place through boundless space 

All wondrous things of entity ? 
Command and cause all nature's laws 

To blend in perfect harmony, — 
With all to chime through endless time 

Like sweet and sacred psalmody? 

If we reflect, do we expect 

That chance will shape our destiny, 
Leaving a pall thrown over all 

Of deep unfathomed mystery ? 
Does smiling spring no tidings bring 

With all its gorgeous pageantry, 
Or winter bleak no language speak 

Like that of a divinity ? 

While moments climb the mount of time 

And onward roll successively. 
Does chance control the human soul 

And urge it on progressively ? 
Hath chance designed man's glorious mind 

With all of its reality, 
And bade it fly to realms on high 

To claim its immortality? 



HUMILITY INHERITED. 15 

Did chance design tlie orbs that shine, 

And shades of night and morning, 
With all the hallowed scene between 

So wondrously adorning? 
Oh, chance, avaunt ! thou spectre gaunt ! 

Thou matchless ghost of vanity ! 
Avaunt ! avaunt ! nor henceforth haunt 

God's own beloved humanity ! 



HUMILITY INHERITED. 

My brothers and sisters of earth. 

Then have ye no blessings for me ; 
Since such was my humble and lowly birth 
That I am of little apparent worth 
In what ye externally see ? 

'T is true I have no regal sire 
To breathe me a breath of fame ; 

No magic have I to strike the lyre 
To herald forth my name. 

But I am more than a clay-cold clod, — 
Ay, more than a sapphire gem, — 



16 EHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

For I am by birth-right a god, 

A child of the great I Am ; 
And my foot-prints will gleam where Jehovah 
hath trod 

All over Jerusalem. 

Yea, I shall traverse the starry heights, 

Where resplendent glories roll, 
And my path will be strewn with celestial delights 

In the radiance of the soul. 

But shall I be greater than ye, 

Or am I the chosen of God ? 
And may not the pathway allotted to me 

Also by you be trod ? 

Nay, brothers and sisters of earth, 

I may not journey alone ; 
For all shall be counted as equal in worth 
Regardless of lofty or lowly birth. 

In accord with the life-deeds done. 

And a soul that is now in the van. 

In the upward and onward way. 
Reaps not its reward from mortal man 

In this lower life today. 



WHAT SHALL MY MISSION BE? 17 



WHAT SHALL MY MISSION BE? 

If I go forth upon the field 

The warrior's part to play, 
And there the gleaming falchion wield 

My brother-man to slay, 
And thus I reinforcements send 

The mourners' ranks to fill, 
Will God be my approving friend 

And send me blessings still ? 

Or, if I at some altar stand 
To breathe a faithless prayer. 

And claim that by divine command 
I take my station there. 

And fan the Bible with my breath 
To prove my utterance true. 

What earnings should I find at death 
For work I thus might do ? 

What though I stand in lordly state 
Professor of the laws, 



18 BHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

And lift my voice in high debate 
To gain the world's applause, 

Then would the world supply my need 
For all the life to be, 

When I should pass beyond its meed, 
What would there be for me ? 

Or with the proud physician's part 

I boast of matchless skill, 
Professing some mysterious art 

Or wondrous power of will : 
In all the depths of such a charm 

To make the wounded whole. 
Oh, could I find a healing balm 

For wounds upon the soul ? 

Though claims I have to widespread lands 

And mines of golden ore, 
And grasp in my unworthy hands 

The earnings of the poor. 
And thus my name should go abroad 

O'er all the land and sea, 
How could I carry that to God ? 

How would it answer me ? 

Oh, let me have some mission true, 
As Jesus had on earth. 



FRATERIHTY. 19 

Although my friends may be but few, 

And goods of little worth ; 
Yea, let me tread, as Jesus trod, 

The pathway of the just — 
Then will I carry that to God 

With firm and holy trust. 



FRATERNITY. 

" LO, THE POOR RED MAN 1 " 

Why stand we apart with our work in the vine- 
yard, 

Since God's every child has its mission to fill ? 
Oh, why not go forward like brothers and sisters, 

Forever united in earnest good will ? 

Are we not children of one Divine Father, 
Whose blessings unto us incessantly flow ? 

And should we not follow our Father's example 
By kindly bestowing what we can bestow? 

His hand of guidance leads upward forever. 
And never rewardless a soul that moves on ; 

For if divine precept is blended with practice, 
There never is lacking a victory won. 



20 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Our words of endearment are all fitly spoken ; 

But who will in action their meaning express ? 
Who will exhibit the Nazarene token 

With only the motive to love and to bless ? 

Who will step forward in heart-kindled kindness 
To lead the misguided from pathways of sin, — 

Search out the souls that are groping in blindness, 
And find them a refuge and welcome them in? 

Who will engage in the work of redemption, 
And glory at taking their stand in the van. 

Stretch forth in earnest the hand of the helper. 
As holy intentions and worth only can ? 

Speech may be uttered and echoes repeat it, 
But actions will have their unending refrain ; 

And if they are such as invite the blest angels. 
Then angels will greet us and come to remain. 

Oh, then, are we striving to merit such greeting ? 

Do we all worship at love's sacred shrine ? 
Will it appear when the life-book is opened 

That we have all acted with purpose divine ? 

Is there no "hunt-ground" or home for the Indian 
In all the wide forests or fields of the earth ? 



FRATEENITY. 21 

And must his pale brother who claims to be 
Christian 
Deprive him of all he inherits by birth ? 

Is that the precept ordained by Jehovah, 
That going forth to God's altar and shrine, 

That in accord with the gospel of Jesus, 
The angel-trod pathway,— O brother mine ? 

Are not God's children wherever they may be 
All the recipients of His divine care ? 

And should not the Red Man, the child of the 
forest. 
Be just awarded his God-given share ? 

The trees of the forest have no altercation, 
But stand in their order as if they were one ; 

Their roots and their branches make progress 
together 
Until their great work of the temple is done. 

Aye, worlds upon worlds are all chanting their 
anthems 
As sweetly as seraphs their melodies sing ; 
And if we are chiefest of all things created. 
Should not chiefest goodness then crown us as 
king? 



22 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Oh, if we look upward for wisdom and guidance, 
How quickly the angels respond to our call, — 

Using forever their utmost endeavor 

To waft their own blessedness down to us all? 

They would have us review the lives we are living, 
And pause but sufficient to see where we stand ; 

To see if the gifts that our souls purpose giving 
Are surely the gifts of " the heart in the hand." 

They point to the sunshine, the rain, and the dew- 
drops, 

And call us to note how the God-gifts are giyen ; 
Alike unto all, and forever continued 

As always our Father is smiling from Heaven. 

They tell us the star-gems that sparkle above us, 
All glowing with glory in acting their part. 

Are asking us truly to be more fraternal 

With shoulder to shoulder and heart-pulse to 
heart. 

For tho' in God's wisdom our missions are varied. 
That great sacred bond should be always the 
same ; 

And all hallowed kindness from one to another 
Should be our beginning, our end, and our aim. 



THE PKAYEE, OF JESUS. 23 



THE PRAYER OF JESUS. 

Prayed the Christ when, pale and dying, 

On the cruel cross he hung ; 
When the temple-veil was rended, 

And the night o'er day was flung ; 
When the heartless soldier's spear-point 

Pierced His anguished bosom through: 
" Father, oh, forgive, forgive them, 

For they know not what they do ! " 

Mocking lips His woes derided ; 

Heads were bowed in scornful pride ; 
Judas had betrayed his Master ; 

Peter thrice his Lord denied ; 
Yet still prayed the Christ unceasing. 

While His gasping breath He drew : 
" Father, oh, forgive, forgive them. 

For they know not what they do ! '* 

Oh, my suffering fellow-mortals 
On the cross of earthly woes. 

Bearing scoffs, and scorns, and scourges, 
Angry words and cruel blows, 



24 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Can ye pray as did the Jesus 

When no helping hand He knew : 
" Father, oh, forgive, forgive them, 

For they know not what they do " ? 

Ye, whose bruised and broken spirits 

Sink beneath continual strife ; 
Ye, all faint and worn from suffering 

By the weary way of life, — 
Can you say for them that crush you. 

When your friends are weak and few : 
" Father, oh, forgive, forgive them. 

For they know not what they do " ? 

Know ye not that all oppressors 

Are themselves the most oppressed, 
Needing all our kind compassion 

More, far more, than all the rest ? 
And, therefore, we should pray for them. 

Though they pierce our vitals through ; 
" Father, oh, forgive, forgive them. 

For they know not what they do ! " 

Yes, ah, yes, dear, blessed martyrs, 

Let us let the angels see 
How we learn from our Great Teacher 

To extend our charity ; 



nature's theology. 25 

How we plead for souls benighted 

With a zeal forever new, 
Asking God to please to help them, 

" For they know not what they do." 



NATURE'S THEOLOGY. 

Nature's great temple stands open forever, 

All star-domed and radiant from portal to shrine, 

With anthems eternal from God's chorus-singers, 
And sermons proclaiming their Author Divine. 

Listen, O mortals ! the teacher is teaching, 
From ocean to ocean, from mountain to glen ; 

Preaching, — yes, preaching, — Jehovah is preach- 
ing . 
His gospel of love to the children of men. 

The trees bow them low in the hallowed old forest, 
As souls may be swayed by the pathos of prayer ; 

And, oh, divine chantings, how sacred and holy. 
And freely bestowed as the ambient air ! 

The shadows of nightfall and splendors of morning. 
With all their effect on the God-written scroll ; 



26 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

And all the wide world, with its wondrous adorning, 
Are speaking as God speaks, direct to the soul. 

The murmur of brooklet, adown through the 
meadow, 

The voice of the insect, the bird, and the bee ; 
Harmoniously sweet as the gospel of Jesus, 

That fell on his hearers around Galilee. 

And though the dread tempest, with all its loud 
thunder, 

May hold its great revel in Nature's domain ; 
Yet God governs all with a purpose in wisdom, 

And suffers no shadow to darken in vain. 

How often the breath of the sweet, gentle zephyr 
Comes with its whisper, so pensive and dear, 

Like blessings of angels that hover about us. 
With their benedictions to fall on the ear. 

O Nature ! thy gospel is sacredly charming, 
And well for earth's children that bow at its 
shrine ; 

For they shall all find they have heavenly manna 
Who eat of its bread and partake of its wine. 

And when God's evangels come over the river 
To guide them across to that radiant shore, 



THE ANSWERING VOICE. 27 

Their loved ones shall meet them, and angels shall 
greet them, 
And joys shall attend them yet more and still 
more. 

For there is that mating, that blessed soul-blending, 
That bond that is welded to never untie ; 

That journey of life that shall never have ending, 
And never the sadness of saying " good-bye." 



THE ANSWERING VOICE. 

On the summit of a mountain. 
Where all seasons held the snow, 

I was gazing round about me. 
Up above and down below. 

When a radiance came athwart me. 

Like a halo round my head. 
And I asked if I was mortal. 

Or was numbered with the dead. 

Then a voice from out the stillness 
Answered that there was no death ; 

That all things that were were living. 
And they breathed their native breath. 



28 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Even rocks, from loftiest summits 

Down to opals in the mine, 
Had their lives in all perfection, 

Sacred lives, and all divine. 

So with worlds, and so with atoms. 
All are perfect in their place ; 

And all hallowed are their missions 

Throughout time and throughout space. 

God's own life pervades them always, 
Worlds on worlds an endless pile ; 

And unto His countless children 
Glowing suns are but His smile. 

Progress is Jehovah's mandate. 
Action fans life's kindled fire, 

And that change termed death by mortals 
Is but simply stepping higher. 

Therefore, then, that " King of Terrors " 
Is thy friend and not thy foe. 

Oh, step by those old-time errors ; 
Upward look, and onward go. 

Ceaseless is the soul's ascension. 
Ceaseless gifts will Heaven bestow; 

Cease thou then all doubts concerning 
The Eternal Fountain's flow. 



SUPERNAL GUESTS. 29 



SUPERNAL GUESTS. 

When a sacred flame is kindled, 
Radiant as the realms on high, 

Angel hosts are gliding through it. 
For we sense them passing by, — 

Sense that high and holy mission 
On which angels are intent, 

Striving to awaken mortals 
As if they were Heaven sent. 

Then the question, how to meet them ? 

How to greet them face to face ? 
How to hold the radiant angels 

Calmly in our soul's embrace ? 

Ah ! methinks some preparation, 
Such as mortals seldom make, 

Will be found to be essential 

Ere that heavenward step we take ! 

We shall need some fitting raiment, 
Need some garments pure and white, 

Suited to go forth and meet them 
When they come within our sight. 



30 KHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

We shall need the robes around us 
That betoken noble deeds, 

Far removed from fashion's follies 
And the priestly garb of creeds. 

Quickly, then, O fellow mortals, 
At the star-beam's early dawn, 

Let us be prepared and ready. 
Lest we wait, and they are gone ! 



THE TINY RAPS. 

"Hark, hark, O friends!" says a sprightly child 

Some thirty-four years ago ; 
" Oh, what in the world is this wonderful thing 

That comes to startle us so ? 

" Some little, strange, mysterious sounds. 

Like echoes from over the lea ; 
What tidings to us can such things bring. 

What can their meaning be ? 

"And vocal is all our home here now. 
Even cupboard, and table, and chair ; 

Ah, yes, and the wonderful voices come 
Sometimes in the vacant air ! 



THE TINY RAPS. 31 

" Coming, and coming, and coming again, 

Like the waves of a restless sea ; 
Oh, how can we ever attempt to explain 

This wonderful mystery? 

"And how shall we ever the problem solve, 
Whether these are friends or foes. 

Unless they come in some other form 
Their purpose to disclose ? " 

But, ah ! a querying thought now comes 

To question these tones, and see 
If they might be consciously able to count 

In numbers from one to three. 

And, lo ! the response is quick and clear 

As the tones of a silver bell : 
"Ah, yes, we are here from the spirit sphere 

With a glorious truth to tell ! " 

Then flash the tidings athwart the skies 
That Heaven and earth are joined, 

And the hallowed mint is all intact 
Where the golden joys are coined ! 

And all the echoing chimes expand, 
And grander the anthems swell ; 



32 EHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

"Ah, yes, we are here from the Summer-land, 
With a glorious truth to tell ! '' 

'Tis told, and the joyous, sweet refrain 
Has been heard on every hand. 

All over the earth, again and again, 
And up in the spirit laud. 

Ah, yes, that grand immortal choir 

Has many a concert given 
That charmed the soul like a seraph lyre 

From the upper courts of Heaven ! 

And still around our lives today 

That holy anthem lingers, 
For still the chords of that heavenly harp 

Are touched by angel fingers. 

And well may we meet and feel to rejoice, 
And well may our hearts be stirred. 

That ever those hallowed little tones 
By the children of men were heard. 



life's school-rooms. 33 



LIFE'S SCHOOL-ROOMS. 

Lo ! the great Jehovah's problems 
Li life's school-rooms everywhere, 

Waiting ever for solution 
By the dear ones of His care. 

Waiting as the worlds are waiting, 
For us to the school-rooms come. 

And as Heaven itself is waiting 
For our joyous welcome home. 

Lo ! ah, lo I how many a token 

Do we find at every turn ; 
And more than our prayers are spoken 

Do we needed lessons learn. 

We need the contrast of all things, 
We need the night and morn. 

We need the winters and the springs. 
And need the rose and thorn. 

We need our toils and need repose, 
We need have smiles and frowns ; 

We need our joys and need our woes, 
And all life's ups and downs ; 



34 BHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

For as students in life's college 
In the primal class we stand, 

To acquire the needed knowledge 
For the glorious Summer-Land. 

And no fears we need to borrow 
For our destined end or way, 

If we only let tomorrow 
Find us better than today. 

For safely, oh, my fellow mortals, 
Glide we o'er the tides of life 

Onward to the heavenly portals, 
Notwithstanding all the strife. 

Ah, and even strife is blessing 
If but rightly understood ; 

Something gained and worth possessing 
For our everlasting good. 

Then valiant let us be and brave 
Through all our walks of life ; 

Tliough from the cradle to the grave 
There seems but toil and strife. 

For soon, aye, soon, our laboring oars 
Will from their labors cease. 

And we shall tread God's starry floors 
In paradisal peace. 



EURAL LIFE. 35 



RURAL LIFE. 

We 're out in the country, the beautiful country, 
And, oh, how enchanting to sense the sweet air, 

To hear all the songs of the birds in the forest 
And list to the husbandman's heaven-heard 
prayer. 

Oh, it is better than hoarding up treasure 
By strife and contention in city and town. 

For here mother nature gives heaping full measure, 
With smiles in addition and never a frown. 

Here we can live to be true to each other. 
True to ourselves and true to the world. 

True to that star-spangled banner above us. 
That glorious banner that never is furled. 

Here we can worship in nature's cathedral, 
Where the sweet anthems unceasingly roll, 

And where we all seem to be nearer the angels. 
For here is a solace that reaches the soul. 

Here we are students in nature's great college. 
And learn of the bees and the blossoming flowers, 



36 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

And the dear divine breath of the sweet gentle 
zephyrs 
That whisper so kindly in the twilight hours. 

And tutors we have as if God and his angels 
Took note of our needs and had answered our 
call ; 

For surely it seems as if Heaven's evangels 
Were waiting about us and watching us all. 

The swallows are flitting around the rude shelters, 
The robin sits chirping upon the beech tree, 

And nature seems vocal with melody charming 
From summit of mountain to shore of the sea. 

Bright eyes about us undimmed by pollution 
Salute us with glances most cheerful and bland. 

And precious indeed are the sweet consolations 
That stand forth to greet us on every hand. 

The clear crystal brooks that meander the meadows, 
Where violets and clover so charmingly bloom, 

Are chanting their choruses ever and ever. 
And always invite us so kindly to come. 

The squirrels are sporting around the old fences. 
The lambs on the hill-side are briskly at play, 



THE mariner's FAITH. 37 

The workmen are busy in every department, 
And charmingly fragrant is the new-mown hay. 

Oh, yes, it is joyous out here in this Eden, 

Where pleasures unnumbered spontaneously flow, 
And blessings attend us at every foot-step 
In all the charmed pathways wherever we go. 

And life-giving breath is the breath of the country. 
For balm-breezes come from each valley and knoll ; 

And, oh, we but need to be nature's true children 
To vie with the angels in whiteness of soul. 



THE MARINER'S FAITH.* 

Back to thy darkness, skeptic, back ! 

The Almighty is abroad ; 
He treads the tempest's billowy track, 

Even as of old He trod 
The raging sea of Galilee ; 

Back, skeptic, — there's a God! 

Aye, to thy darkness, skeptic, back ! 

Nor venture on the sea. 
Else will the Great Omnipotent 

* This poem was written forty years ago 



38 EHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Be manifest to thee, — 
Who holds the waters in His hand 
With awful majesty. 

Loud roars the wild wind through our shrouds, 

And swells the raging deep, 
And madly o'er our naked decks 

The surging waters leap ; 
And all the storms of ocean's caves 

Rise from their startled sleep. 

The sails flap furious o'er our heads, 

The straining masts give way, 
Each timber creaks, each spar is snapped, 

The tempest now has sway ; 
And 'neath the dark, portentous clouds 

High rolls the briny spray. 

With shattered masts, with canvass rent. 

With helm and rudder gone. 
We dash across the watery waste. 

Lashed to the wreck each one ; 
With silent tongues and limbs benumbed 

On rush we, — on and on ! 



ACOBNS AND OAKS. 39 

On through the dark tempestuous night, 

On o'er the mountain wave, 
"Where terror grasps the hearts of men. 

Of men who once were brave ; 
But now in most forlorn despair 

Hang o'er a watery grave. 

And yet our noble captain shouts : 

" Let not your courage fail ! 
Confide in God, my shipmates all. 

And he will calm the gale ! " 
And, lo ! the morn breaks clear and bright. 

And yonder gleams a sail. 

Oh, thanks to Heaven, each heart responds ; 

The stranger-bark draws near. 
Who put their trust in God are safe ; 

He does the tempest steer. 
O skeptic, what more couldst thou have ? 

Is not Jehovah here ? 



ACORNS AND OAKS. 

Though tender the twig as it starts from its germing 
To struggle with fate for what it shall be. 

If favored by nature it stops not its growing 
Until its attains to a gigantic tree. 



40 BHYTECMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Lowly, most lowly, the germ of a lily 
In silence unnoticed begins its career. 

But, oh, how it climbs to the summit of beauty 
To find itself lonely for lack of compeer. 

All helpless the babe in the arms of its mother, 
Entirely unconscious of what is to be ; 

But, ah, when its feet reach the summit of manhood, 
How wondrous the pathway it looks back to see. 

Small though a fire that a little spark kindles. 
Unheeded, unguarded, behold how it flashes ; 

Cities and towns and the wide-spreading prairies 
May quickly be found to be smoldering in ashes. 

And slight though a crime that a soul may indulge in, 
Unmindful that oaks from the small acorns grow, 

So it may grow to be wondrously wicked. 
And sink to the depths of the direst of woe. 

But, oh, if the harp is attuned to the angel. 
How sweet then life's anthem, how sacred and 
dear; 

So charming the concord and hallowed the cadence 
That Heaven seems truly to be with us here. 



TO LITTLE ANGEL MINNEWA. 41 



TO LITTLE ANGEL MINNEWA. 

MINNEWA'S VERSE. 

The following, from The Voice of Angels, interprets itself, and may 
possibly afford a moment's pleasant pastime to some reader. But 
however that may be, for a soul so dear as Minnewa* there must ever 
remain with the writer, in memory's keeping, a glowing and fadeless 
charm : — 

Chicago, Jan. 29. 1879. 
Editor of The Voice of Angels : 

Esteemed Brother,— To this brief epistolary I am just now 
prompted by a greatly-beloved little Indian spirit, who gives us her 
name as Minnewa, or Placid Water in English, telling us that she 
forms one of the band of control of our God-gifted medium, Mrs. 
Hattie E. Davis. And in her simple, innocent, and unique manner of 
speech further makes it known to us that she has been in "butterfly" 
(spirit life) nearly one hundred •* snows" (winters), having gone from 
the " caterpillar" (earth life) when she had seen but seventeen "leaf 
off 'um bash" (autumn seasons), and never having seen a pale face 
while upon the earth. But now, by her heavenly graces, and ever- 
truthful and Christ-like teachings, had so endeared herself to us, and 
the many who had availed themselves of the blessing of her " coun- 
cil talks," that I felt almost involuntarily impelled to breathe to her 
the following laconic greeting in rhythmical verse, which was not 
intended for the public, but for her only. But, she says : " Oh, chief, 
am much nice um sing-talk. Me big much like. Chief, put um iu 
um talk paper," meaning The Voice of Angels. And, therefore, for 
your disposal, it is herewith submitted by your fraternal correspond- 
ent. 

Oh, our sweet Minnewa, dear little spirit-squaw, 
How gladly we welcome thee down to the earth ; 

We call thee an angel, and God's dear evangel ; 
But, oh, we lack language to tell of thy worth. 

* This charming child of nature is by no means lacking in wisdom 
and profundity of thought, however childlike her speech may appear 
to the reader. 



42 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Forever untiring at all our inquiring, 

And ready and willing to answer each call ; 

How can we but love thee, since none are above thee 
In blessed bestowals of kindness to all ? 

How often hearts saddened have by thee been glad- 
dened. 

And led to look upward as never before ; 
Oh, yes, thou dear angel, thou art God's evangel, 

For daily we find it so, more and still more. 



THE SOUL OF BENEFICENCE. 

INSCRIBED TO A LADY OF UNBOUNDED BENEVOLENCE. 

When the hallowed hand of kindness 
Strives to bless a soul in need. 

Oh, how quickly God's evangels 
Note the precious Christ-like deed ! 

And its record they bear upward, 
Upward to the realm of soul, 

Where they hasten to inscribe it 
On the great eternal scroll. 

And where all undimmed and glowing 
It shall ever brighter glow. 



THE SOUL OF BENEFICENCE. 43 

Telling of a soul's endeavor 
While it lingered here below. 

Telling how it fed the hungry, 
How it clothed the suffering poor, 

How it searched through all the vineyard 
For the lowly cottage door, 

Where the feet of little children 

All unclad were cold and chill ; 
And how then a heart of pity 

Did its hallowed mission fill. 

Oh, that book of many pages. 

Pages closely written o'er. 
How the angels hold it sacred 

On that ever-shining shore I 

Yes, ah, yes, dear blessed sister, 

God's own records always tell 
Whose kind hands His lambs have nurtured, 

Who has labored, and how well. 



44 KHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 



SOUL-MATING. 

They tell me of mating, of blessed soul-blending, 
Of love not of earth that is yet to be mine ; 

Of a soul all aflame with divinest ascending 
To meet me and greet me and stand at the shrine. 

Dwells she on earth yet ? or is she a spirit 
Anxiously watching and waiting for me ? 

And shall I then truly my soul-mate inherit 
When I get over the tempest-tossed sea ? 

Is she an angel, replete with compassion, 
And kindly excuses embosomed for me ? 

Forgiving in mercy my faults and my follies. 
And all my transgressions whatever they be ? 

Oh, such a treasure ; God knows I would grasp it 
And cease not my thanks through eternity's year, 

Nor should 1 be tempted to ever unclasp it. 
Or count it less precious, less sacred and dear. 

Oh, the blest picture, how gladly I view it. 
Though painted it may be upon the thin air ; 

And though it may vanish ere I shall get to it, 
And leave me to wander alone in despair. 



WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON. 45 

And, yet, if a dream, then it must not be broken, 
I must not awaken and cast it away ; 

For life when bereft of its most divine token 
Is more like the night-shades than sunlight and 
day. 



IN MEMORY OP 

THE ASCENDED WM. LLOYD GARRISON. 

Oh, let a cenotaph arise 

In grandeur's grandest form 

In memory of that child of God 

Who stemmed life's bitterest storm. 

Nor hold the structure from on high. 

Or give it any bound ; 
Let not its summit be the sky, 

Or basis be the ground. 

But rear it to the sacred realms. 

Where angel spirits roam ; 
And let the sparkling germs of worth 

Illuminate its dome. 

Then hang from Heaven's apex down 

An everlasting scroll ; 
And let the glowing emblem be 

The light of a martyr soul. 



46 EHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

THE ANTHEM OF NATURE. 

" There's not an orb that rolls in space but like an angel sings." 

Listen, oh, listen, the tempest's rehearsal ! 

The ship and the waters take part in the choir ; 
The shrouds in the wind, and the white-foaming 
billows. 
Are chanting their psalms on the strings of the 
lyre. 

The cyclone of death, and the storm-peals of 
thunder. 

Are notes in the octave that echo afar ; 
But worlds roll in space like the songs of a seraph, 

Nor cease they forever at octave or bar. 

The waves of the ocean with pearly-white fingers 
Are touching forever the chords of the strand, 

Unceasingly chiming the anthemnal chorus 
Afar o'er the waters and over the land. 

And, oh, how divinely the sacred old forests 
Are waving their crests in the ambient air, 

Thrilling our hearts by their charming enchant- 
ments. 
As souls may be thrilled by the fervor of prayer ! 



WE GO NOT OUT FROM NATURE. 47 

The lark of the morning neglects not its carol, 
Nor herds of the pastures their cheering refrain ; 

Nor ever a harp when attuned by Jehovah 
But charms us and cheers us again and again. 

The murmur of rivulet down through the meadow, 
The voice of the insect, the bird, and the bee, 

Harmoniously sweet as the gospel of Jesus 
That fell on His hearers around Galilee. 

And lowly and softly the sweet gentle zephyrs 
Come with their whispers so pensive and dear, . 

Like blessings of angels that hover about us 
With their benedictions to fall on the ear. 

Oh, hallowed the cadence, and sacred the anthem, 
From summit of mountain to shore of the sea ; 

For God's charming songsters are chanting in con- 
cord 
That great divine chorus that always shall be. 



WE GO NOT OUT FROM NATURE. 

We go not out from Nature 

When our earthly work is done, 

But only to that feature 

Where more brightly shines the sun , 



48 KHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Where the day is ever dawning 
And we know no dark despair, 

For the great Eternal Father 
Holds us closely in his care. 

We go not out from Nature 

At what we now term death, 
But only to that feature 

Which more perfection hath ; 
Where hill and dale and floweret 

And dewy-jewelled sod. 
And mountains with their stony lips, 

Speak always up to God. 

We go not out from Nature 

At the beckoning boatman's call, 
But only to that feature 

Which forever blesses all ; 
For the angel-boatman lands us 

On that ever-shining shore, 
Where the loved ones all await us 

Who have journeyed on before. 

We go not out from Nature 

When our journey here is done. 

But only in that feature 

Where we journey farther on ; 



INSCRUTABLE PROVIDENCE. 49 

Where the pathways are more glorious, 
And more hallowed all the view, 

And where all is more victorious 
In the ever good and true. 

We go not out from Nature 

When we leave the planet earth. 
But only to that feature 

Where we find diviner birth ; 
Where we find diviner greeting 

And more joy on every hand. 
Where more kindly hearts are beating 

In the glorious Summer-Land. 



INSCRUTABLE PROVIDENCE. 

Must there be all this commotion? 

Must the muttering thunders roll, 
When we would have calm devotion. 

And divinest peace of soul? 

Ah, I seem to hear the answer, 

Like an echo from on high : 
" Wait, and thou shalt know the purpose 

In the blessed by and bye." 



50 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

So, then, what jars the world today, 
And drapes the land in sorrow, 

May be but God's paternal way 
Of blessing all tomorrow. 



A KINDLY WHISPER. 

Whatsoe'er thy lot, my brother. 

Nobly act and do thy part ! 
Cast no burden on another. 

Lest it fall on thine own heart : 
Cast thou forth no barbed arrow, 

Lest the same to thee return ; 
And thou findest to thy sorrow 

Just the wages thou didst earn. 

For the law of compensation 

Is God's ever just decree ; 
And in its administration 

It will justly deal with thee ; 
Then, but, oh, how sweet the token, 

As if all the heavens smiled. 
If to thee it shall be spoken : 

" Nobly done, my blessed child." 



THE VOICE I HEARD. 51 



THE VOICE I HEARD. 

I met on my journey of life one day 

A soul that betokened grief ; 
And something said, or seemed to say : 

" Oh, give that soul relief! " 

But what could I do for a suffering soul 

When nothing I had to give ? 
How could I make the wounded whole, 

And bid the dying live ? 

Or were there yet in the gardens of God 

Some potent healing balms ? 
And quickly the voice said : " Yes, ah, yes, 

Go clasp it in thine arms ! " 

"And let compassion fill thy breast 

With its divine control, 
Then God's own priceless balm thou hast 

For that poor wounded soul.'* 



52 EHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 



NEVER, NEVER LOST. 

Oh, wherefore distrust that an atom of dust 
In the infinite realms of space, • 

Though tempest-tossed, can ever be lost 
From its perfectly destined place ? 

Lost? Oh, nay, nay! There is no strand 

In all creation's realm 
Where all may not in safety land, 

Since God is at the helm. 

The clouds upon their billowy track 

Are never cast away. 
But always bring some blessings back 

Upon another day. 

The flowers that bloom upon the plain 

May fade and pass from view, 
But spring-time brings them back again 

With all their charms anew. 

So loved ones of our earthly plane 
May fade and pass from sight ; 

But, oh, they come to us again 
At morning, noon, and night ! 



TYRANNY. 53 



TYRANNY. 



Of despots all upon the earth, 

Who rule by fire and fagot, 
Oh, give us any if we must 

But the religious bigot ; 
For they would nail the Christ again 

Upon the cross today. 
And let old superstition's reign 

Again assert its sway. 

Ah, yes, old superstition yet 

Her sable mantle spreads. 
And while we thoughtless mortals let 

It fall upon our heads 
We need to tread where martyrs trod, 

We need awakening thunder. 
Aye, and the matchless power of God, 

To make us stand from under. 



54 BHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 



POEMS FOR THE LITTLE FOLKS. 



HOW BLEST I WAS IN GIVING. 

«• Count that day lost whose low-descending sun 
Sees from thy hand no worthy action done." 

'T was very cold one winter day, 

And I was out in it ; 
And surely thought that I should freeze 

Almost every minute. 

But I was struggling for the best, 

And earnestly intended 
To make some heavy heart grow light 

Before that day was ended. 

For there were some that I could help 

By kindly word or deed. 
Because so many always are 

More or less in need. 

And little Effie and little Jeffy 

Were living over the river 
In a lonely home, too drear and cold 

For them and their poor mother. 



HOW BLEST I WAS IN GIVING. 55 

And really they were very poor, 

And almost in distress ; 
For mother could not help them much, 

And they were fatherless. 

And I did pity them so much. 

So sorrow-crushed was Jeffy; 
And, oh, my sympathies did flow 

So much for little Effie. 

So any cold that I might feel. 

Or storm that I might stem, 
Onl}^ prompted me the more 

To hurry on to them. 

For well I knew their hearts would swell 

With joy at seeing me. 
If nothing more that I should do 

Than keep them company. 

But I had more than that to do. 
More than word-prayers to pray; 

For I had some good things for them 
On that cold winter day. 

Yes, I had some things I could give 
Those dear ones over the river, 



56 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

And I could hear the angels say : 
" God loves a cheerful giver." 

And when I found them, as I did, 
All sad, and pale, and poor. 

How glad I was that I could give 
Them something from my store. 

And when I saw them so rejoice 
At w^hat they then were having, 

Oh, I did want the world to know 
How blest I was in giving. 



THE LITTLE GUEST AT SUPPER. 

No fiction, but veritable fact. 

One night I was sitting alone at tea, 

And a little fly come to take supper with me ; 

And I did not tell him to go away. 

But treated him kindly, and let him stay ; 

And gave him some cake, and cheese, and bread, 

And everything else, the best that I had ; 

For he seemed to be a nice little fly 

And ought to have supper as well as I ; 

And may be thought I was glad he had come, 

For he seemed to appear as if quite at home. 



THE LITTLE GUEST AT SUPPER. 57 

And, oh, he had beautiful gauzy wings, 

Nor had he got on any extra things. 

For nature had woven the garments he wore, 

And I therefore loved him all the more ; 

And gave him a part of my clean, white plate. 

And he crawled all around, and he ate and ate ; 

And I guess he thought my supper was good, 

For he seemed to eat as much as he could ; 

But when he was done, away he flew 

As if he had nothing more to do ; 

No bow to make, or word to say. 

Or pence or penny he need to pay ; 

And, if his thanks he did express, 

He had n't a cent of money I guess ; 

For somehow I thought he seemed to look 

As if he carried no pocket-book ; 

But that, I supposed, was as right for him 

As it was for a Quaker to wear a broad-brim ; 

And so I was glad that I had been good. 

And treated him kindly as ever I could ; 

For really I thought it might perhaps be 

That that little fly was related to me, 

Because we were parts of that great whole, — 

That all of life, and soul of soul. 

Ah, yes, little readers, between you and I, 

The cutest of cuties was that little fly; 



58 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

And now if this suits you I surely will try 
To tell you another true story by and bye. 



THE LOST OF EARTH FOREVER IN 
GOD'S KEEPING. 

I 've numbered rolling years, Ellen, 
With sunbeams and with frost, 

Since desolation claimed my heart, 
When thou, dear one, wert lost. 

And, oh, that deep, deep wound, Ellen, 

Is sadly painful yet ; 
For balm to heal such heart-felt wounds 

I 've known not where to get. 

You wandered down the brook, Ellen, 

And over hill and glade ; 
And through the dismal woods, dearest, 

Your precious foot-steps strayed. 

From morn to darksome night, Ellen, 

Thou earnestly wert sought ; 
Aye, and till morning came again, 

But, oh, we found thee not. 



THE LOST OF EARTH. 59 

And, then, full many a friend, Ellen, 

Wept pitying tears for thee ; 
But weepers for the heart most sad 

Might well have wept for me. 

Yet, still I wearied not, Ellen, 

Though others did despair ; 
I asked of Heaven where Ellen was, 

And Heaven heard my prayer. 

Oh, then, in wildest joy, Ellen, 

With tears all un repressed, 
How, like a dove, with bleeding heart, 

You nestled to my breast. 

And, then, how blest was I, Ellen, 

Thy little feet to guide ; 
And how my o'erjoyed bosom throbbed 

Responsive at thy side. 

Oh, that expressive face, Ellen, 

I never can forget ; 
That hopeless grief and deep despair, 

How plain the vision yet I 

I saved thee once again, Ellen, 
When near a watery grave ; 



60 KHYTH^nCAL EXPRESSIONS. 

I proudly bore thy trembling form 
From out the deep blue wave. 

But, now, beyond my reach, Ellen, 

In wilderness or wave. 
Thou art where only God, dear one. 

Can hold the power to save. 

They 've placed thy mortal form, Ellen, 

Beneath the dewy sod ; 
But, oh, that glowing soul of thine 

Is sparkling with its God ! 

Safe, safe, ah, yes, at home, Ellen, 

I have not lost thee now ; 
For, oh, those blessed hands how sweet 

They are upon my brow ! 

And when I journey forth, Ellen, 
To thine own radiant plane, 

I know those precious little hands 
Will clasp in mine again. 

And are souls blended there, Ellen, 

By infinite decree ? 
And then might thine be blent with mine 

For all the time to be ? 



LEAVES. 61 

Oh, if that should be so, Ellen, 

And thou mine own for aye ; 
The debt I then to Heaven should owe 

No mortal man could pay. 



LEAVES. 



All the glowing stars in the vaulted skies, 
And the dew-drops on earth's sod. 

Are gems divine for us to prize 
On the finger of Father God. 



Oft in the lowly walks of life 
The tenderest tears are shed ; 

And oft the sweetest flowers are found 
Upon some lowly bed. 



How many a soul-gem hidden lies 
Upon the darkened earth 

For lack of luster from the skies 
To show its countless worth ! 



62 EHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Words in holy kindness spoken 
Are as priceless gems impearled ; 

Or as loaves of life-bread broken 
To the famished of the world. 



If mankind would be fraternal, 
Giving holy kindness sway, 

Life on earth and life supernal 
Would be Heaven all the way. 



The trials of earth are all blessings in spirit, 
Designed by Jehovah as treasures to be, — 

Wages earned here that the soul must inherit 
When it gets over the turbulent sea. 



Through the process of sore affliction, 
Through sorrow, and pain, and woe, 

Our souls are refined and quickened, 
And whitened like the snow. 



Full many a pilgrim-traveler here 
Finds sorrow all the while ; 

But when a well-tried soul goes up. 
It makes the angels smile. 



LEAVES. 63 

UNJUST BALANCE. 

A man may revel as he will, 
And still be lord and king, 
But woman, making one misstep, 
Must hear her death-knell ring. 
Oh, human justice ! oh, jewel of consistency I 
Wither have ye fled ? 



HELL? YEA, VERILY ! 

And whoso layeth vengeance by 
Upon old Satan's shelves, 

Thinking some other soul to fry, 
Must stand the roast themselves. 



OUR ONWARD JOURNEYING. 

The light on our pathway is only in keeping 

"With growth of mentality up to today ; 
The dawn of the morrow may let us discover 

Some other light shining up over our way ; 
For mind keeps apace with the soul on its journey. 

And halts not forever at favor or frown. 
But marshals its forces with valor unrivaled. 

The ghost of all others that never will down. 



64 KHYTHlSnCAL EXPRESSIONS. 

Trials have missions to souls, 

As orbs have round the sun ; 
And surely as our earth-orb rolls 

Their purposed work is done ; 
For when misfortune's darkest pall 

Is all around us spread, 
God's purpose is within it all, 

Though seemingly so dread. 



God guides our bark upon the waves 

Where fitful winds are blowing ; 
And though we drift o'er countless graves 

They hinder not our going ; 
For o'er the tide we safely glide 

Across life's turbid river 
To where our tears, and griefs, and fears 

Shall vanquished be forever. 



Life in all phases is fixed and eterual, 

And waits but conditions to kindle its flame ; 
Nor monkey, nor ape, shall evolve to the human, 

Since each in all ages remaineth the same ; 
But whence it arose, if it had a beginning. 

Or where on the journey we pilgrims have been, 
The black-board of God has that problem upon it 

Unanswered as yet by the children of men. 



LEAVES. 65 

LIGHT VEKSLTS DARKNESS. 

How closely we cling to some foolish old error 
That long in the past should have been laid 
away ; 

And, oh, how our hands are uplifted in horror 
If anyone deems it unfit for today ; 

But sunshine awaiteth the clouds passing over 
To send its rays down to the children of men, 

Until they are able to clearly discover 

The depths of the darkness in which they have 
been. 



The soul that lives to bless its kind 
While on its journey here 

Will a most hallowed welcome find 
In yonder spirit sphere. 



If thy fellows stand above thee, 
And would count thy merits few, 

While they would that none should love thee, 
Tell them all the angels do. 



Who lives in love and not in hate 
Is owner of a blest estate. 



66 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

While not unto all and to each 
Is the gift of speech God-given, 

There 's oft in hallowed silence speech 
Which is joyously heard in Heaven. 



VALEDICTORY. 

Slight no soul upon the earth, lest sorrow for it 
attend thee in the Heavens; for all of human 
kind are but infant angels; and, one and all, 
whatever the seeming now, are surely upon their 
pilgrimage to that hallowed land afar, where 
God's seraph-singers are chanting in concord that 
great blissful anthem, The Song of the Soul. 



ROBERT burns' NUPTIALS. 67 



ROBERT BURNS' NUPTIALS 

WITH HIGHLAND MARY IN SPIRIT LIFE. 

A poem inspirationally written by Mrs. F. O. Hyzer, and originally 
published in the Banner of Light. 

The circumstances of the calling forth of the following charmingly 
appropriate and characteristic little poem from the immortal bard are 
these: — 

In the early days of Mrs. F. O. Hyzer's raediumship, at Montpelier, 
Vt., she was often influenced to write both poetry and prose, purport- 
ing to eminate from departed spirits. And she had one day been read- 
ing some of these productions to a lady visitor, Avho asked her if 
Robert Burns (the lady's favorite poet) had ever communicated to 
her. She replied that she had never been conscious of his presence, 
nor was she familiar with his writings. The lady then remarked that 
she hoped he would sometime make known his presence, and answer 
a question she had in her mind, which question she did not express. 
A few days subsequently Mrs. Hyzer felt impelled by spirit influence 
to pen the subjoined lines, which, on being shown to the lady, were 
foimd verily to be a most complete and appropriate reply to the query 
she had had in her mind, and which she felt could certainly be attrib- 
uted to none other than the purported author. 

Fair lady, that I come to you 

A stranger-bard fu' weel I ken, 
For ye 've known naught of me save through 

The lays I 've poured from Scotia's glen ; 
But, when I speak o' gliding Ayr, 

O' hawthorn shades and fragrant ferns, 
O' Doon, and Highland Mary fair. 

Mayhap ye '11 think o' Robert Burns. 



68 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

I am the lad ; and why I 'm here, 

I heard the gude dame when she said 
She 'd know in joyous spirit spheres 

If Burns was wi' his Mary wed. 
I sought to tell her a' our joy, 

Na muckle impress could I make-; 
And, lady, I have flown to see 

If ye 'd my message to her take. 

Tell her that when I passed from earth 

My angel-lassie, crowned wi' flowers, 
Met me wi' glowing love-lit torch. 

And led me to the nuptial bowers ; 
That all we 'd dreamed o' wedded bliss. 

And more, was meted to us there ; 
And sweeter was my dearie's kiss 

Than on the flowery banks o' Ayr, 

Where love's celestial fountains played. 

And rose-buds burst and seraphs. sang, 
And myrtle twined our couch to shade, 

I clasped the love I 'd mourned sa lang ; 
And while by angel-harps were played 

The bonnie " bridal serenade," 
Though no gowned priest the kirk-rite said, 

Burns was wi' Highland Mary wed. 



THE DYING POET. 69 

There 's na destroying death-frost here 

To nip the hope-buds ere they bloom ; 
The " bridal tour " is through the spheres, — 

Eternity the " honey-moon." 
And, now, my lady, if ye '11 bear 

These words unto the anxious dame, 
I think I can ye so reward 

Ye '11 ne'er be sorry that I came. 



THE DYING POET. 

[The following lines, from the writings of a Persian poet of the 
twelfth century, were littered at the moment when death was about 
to darken the windows of his earthly habitation; and must, even after 
the lapse of seven centuries, find an echo in every heart.] 

Tell thou to my friends when, weeping, 

They my words descry. 
Here you find my body sleeping ; 

But it is not I. 

Now in life immortal hovering, 

Far away I roam ; 
This was but my house, my covering ; 

'T is no more ray home. 



70 RHYTHMICAL EXPRESSIONS. 

This was but the cage that bound me ; 

I, the bird, have flown ; 
This was but the shell around me ; 

I, the pearl, am gone. 

Over me, as over treasure, 

Had a spell been cast ; 
God hath spoken at his pleasure ; 

I am free at last. 

Thanks and praise to Him be given 

Who has set me free ; 
Now for evermore in Heaven 

Shall mj dwelling be. 

There I stand, His face beholding, 

With the saints in light, — 
Present, future, past unfolding 

In that radiance bright. 

Toiling through the plain, I leave you ; 

I have journeyed on. 
From your tents why should it grieve you, 

Friends, to find me gone ? 

Let the house forsaken perish ; 
Let the shell decay; 



THE DYING POET. 71 

Break the cage, destroy the garments ; 
I am far away. 

Call not this my death, I pray you ; 

'Tismy life of life,— 
Goal of all my weary wanderings, 

End of all my strife. 

Think of God with love for ever, 

Know his name is love ; 
Come to him, distrust him never : 

He rewards above. 

I behold each deathless spirit ; . 

All your ways I view; 
Lo ! the portion I inherit 

Is reserved for you. 



